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angel sanctuary - rosiel

video post;

[ Hullo, good City! Enjoy the soundtrack of several screaming citizens, whose pleasant stroll in Xanadu was just interrupted by the sight of an angel sitting on a bench, blood everywhere: from his face, to his hair, hands and the morsel with which he's teasing a stray cat. ]

Shhhhhhhhhhhhh... you'll scare it.

[ The cat meows, apparently put out enough by the alarmed masses to forget its appetite; it sniffs the offered treat, then turns away from it completely. ]

...now, now, oh so rude. You won't have bread, you won't have blood, you won't have bone. Then, what is it your sort eats, hmmmmm?

[ ooc: aaaaand back in the City, with a lot of apologies for the delay, orz. Worry not, no NPCs were harmed in the making of this post, the blood came from a rat! Network / action / anything goes! ]

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[Jast does, without any hesitation at all. He's a very tall boy, slim and willowy, but that does not mean he has no strength to offer.]

I will accompany you, as you wish it.

[ His hand digs in Jast's deeply for a moment, shying short of scratch. ]

I don't wish it, you fool. But you will anyway. Now tell me a story. I'm sure it will be terrible, so make it long.

[He's flushing again, but he does know a great deal of stories, and perhaps that will just make things easier. Maybe.

Either way, he chooses the song carefully before beginning it. Nothing about cats, he thinks, and instead settles into the murmuring ballad of a sea goddess's hunt for a child of her own, the tide of her cruelty and love, made ever smaller as she probed inland up the lakes and streams which made her whole. A very pretty tale, until of course... she drowns her adopted charge and invokes a glorious funerary storm in his honor, a lacework of lightning and a net of clear rain, dispersing her across the forests and fields to never be heard from again.]

[ ...the conclusion, all things considered, doesn't take him long. ]

El Above, it was terrible.

[It's called poetic, Rosiel.]

My apologies, my lord.

[ He's silent for a moment, taking in the perimeter; promenading through Xanadu had, actually, not been in the cards, and purely organic surroundings do always manage to be... irritating. Everything is irritating. ]

Will you apologize for inhaling next? On every breath?

Only if you request it of me. It had been my hope to please.

[He's sorry your irritated.]

[ So much. Eye-rolling. ]

If I request of you uncensored, free and flowing speech, will I have it?

[Jast hesitates a moment, before glancing at his charge.]

I live my duties, my lord.

[Once upon a time, Yggdrasil had made the same request of him and Jast had not been able to answer it.]

That's no answer. I know answers, I take them often, sometimes with torture forks and that is not -

[ - and yes, he'll be taking the time to slip very, very gracelessly on fallen twigs and quite possibly drag Jast down with him. ]

- confound your greenery!

[Jast sinks down with him, at any rate, looking concerned more than anything, blue eyes brimming with it. There's still something hesitating when he asks,]

Do you know no rest? There can be peace in such places.

[ He takes a few to recollect his bearings, coming up on his knees with slow, testy gestures. There is grass on the land and grass in his hair and grass on his clothes - and it reeks. ]

We are not first men, pigs, or golems. We do not belong in dirt.

There is nothing shameful in the earth.

[He had asked for uncensored speech, this may be as near as Jast can come.]

[ The grass is pulled from where he can see it, irritably. ]

If you lie a rotting corpse.

[Jast reaches up to help with the rest.]

Yes, life and death meet together beneath our feet. Both have their glories.

[ He sits, surprisingly, rather sweet and still; time with Katan's taught him to play nice for the people who tidy him. ]

I don't much like living things. I don't have the time, the patience, the inclination for them.

That is a great many to scorn.

[An just makes Jast look sad.]

[ Now, if only most things didn't manage to make Jast look sad. ]

You only care because living things you can relate to. You don't understand the inorganic, you cannot pity it, so you think it easily cast aside. It's... very hypocritical of the all-caring humans.

[It would help if he didn't wear his heart on his sleeve, probably.]

Pity is not the root of love.

[ And swatting poor Jast's hands away now in what is most certainly not a childish temper tantru - ...well. ]

You're too craven to have loved, let alone speak to me of it! Pah.

[He might just be a little offended now, but Jast doesn't really show it, just drops his hands into his lap.]

Love is in acceptance, and it is not exclusive to only the organic.

[ Augh, this pathetic little creature and all this -

His hands knot, tangle, break over each other. ]

...you tire me. You bore me. You speak nonsense. I hate you. You brought grass in my hair. Grass. And this - this ring I don't want, and it threatens to fall, and I don't want to lose it, except I shall, and it's your stupid, stupid, stupid birds thrilling in my head, and there's blood everywhere, and I do, I truly do hate you. Can't you at least bother to hate me back?

[Another moment of hesitation, but Jast says, very carefully, no chirps or trills,]

I will not.

Well, then. I suppose I'll have to... teach you. With a whip, maybe, or a crop. Something light. All wrist, all sound, all dainty snaps. Yes.

[ He brings himself out fully, a hand soon held out to the -- thing. Jast. It has a name. How... cute. Rosiel's pout twists to a smile. ]

I'll teach you how to hate and to love and to realize they're the same. Don't worry. You've my word.

[Jast stares up at him calmly before leaning forward to kiss Rosiel's hand, even if it was bloody and terrible. He has experienced such things before. No hate will bloom from him.]

Edited (so many typos...) 2012-05-22 23:42 (UTC)

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